She taunted him.
She refused him.
But he didn’t let her stop him.
He bided his time, returning to the antique store she worked at several days a week. She’d asked the owners to make him stop coming to the store but he was a good customer so they refused. She had been polite but aloof after they’d informed her to get over it, answering his questions but remaining unmoved by his charm. He tried everything he could think of to get her to open up to him, if only a little. When he couldn’t get answers from the source he’d decided to search for them elsewhere.
With his connections it hadn’t taken him long to find out everything about her.
Married at eighteen, she’d had a child—a son—when she turned twenty. She’d moved with her husband from a small town in Alabama. New York had been foreign but exciting. She’d gotten a job at an antique shop, using her years of combing through flea markets to her advantage. Things were going well until destiny had thrown her a cruel curveball. As fate often did, it had taken all of her hopes and dreams away.
Everything she loved. Gone in an instant.
He suffocated his rage, locking it away.
The thought of her with another male infuriated him, as did the fact she’d had a child with someone else. But that anger had died when he learned what had become of her family.
Her husband—a wild and reckless youth with a penchant for heavy drinking—had taken their infant out for a spin to the local supermarket. The moment the moronic human had lost control and veered into the oncoming traffic, slamming headfirst into an eighteen wheeler, he’d snuffed out the one thing Persephone lived for.
The guilt that crept over Kinsley wasn’t new. He’d been dealing with it for a little over a week. He hadn’t liked having to intervene and interfere with his mate’s life but she’d given him no choice. If he’d had his way he’d have given her more time. But she’d forced his hand, her will to live slipping away.
His eyes drifted shut, rage no longer content to remain hidden.
She’d hated it when he prevented her from jumping from the Brooklyn Bridge. She’d lashed out at him, screaming through a river of tears. He’d expected her to be embarrassed. What he hadn’t prepared himself for was her misery at being denied the death she longed for. He knew then that he couldn’t watch her walk away. If she was given another chance to end her life, she’d take it.
He’d waited too long for her. He wasn’t about to let her go.
Over the course of the week he’d tried to talk to her without success. She threw things at him, called him a kidnapper and threatened to turn him over to the police. What she hadn’t realized was each day she’d developed the fire she’d lacked. In hating him she’d found something to look forward to. Her consuming loss had turned into a raging fury. Even if it was in destroying the things he’d acquired over the years—she’d already demolished two of his guest bedrooms—she’d found the spark she’d long forgotten.
He laughed quietly, imagining what she’d do when they reached Caledonia. The private island in the Bahamas was secluded and private. She could run all she wanted but she could never escape. There he could finally set her free. She’d be able to roam and explore the beautiful location. Of course he’d watch over her, keeping her safe. Eventually—he hoped—she’d come to him for some kind of companionship. He’d already instructed the staff to stay away from her unless she engaged them in conversation.
The trip would give her what she needed to heal.
Maybe one day she’d find it in her to forgive him.
Or maybe you’re being a hopeless romantic with happily mated fantasies.
True, he’d thought about what his mate would be like. What male didn’t? He’d assumed she’d be a feline, with lean muscles and curves. A woman who’d meet his passion with a healthy dose of her own lust. He’d never expected that she’d be a human female who was so thin she looked like she’d break with a strong wind. That was the first thing he’d worked on. He’d made sure his cooking staff prepared the finest meals, so he could put weight on her tiny frame. She’d refused to eat for a day or two and then hunger had gotten the better of her.
Thank heavens for that at least.
Knowing he couldn’t delay any longer, he rose from his seat. He dreaded taking the trip to her room, braced for what she’d do next. She hadn’t accepted any of his visits, telling him to get the hell out or let her go. For that reason he’d kept their upcoming trip under wraps. She’d spook if she knew what he was up to. He couldn’t take the risk she’d harm herself.
He retrieved the syringe he’d gotten from the doctor in Diskant’s pack and rolled it between his fingers. Doc had been curious about Kinsley’s request, asking what he needed a sedative for, but he’d given the medication to him without receiving answers to his queries. Thankfully the male knew Kinsley shouldn’t be questioned. The pack needed him too much. In a pinch, he’d always come through.
This is it. No more waiting.
He loathed the shame he felt. Hated what he had to do.
All you’re going to do is let her rest. She needs it. When she wakes up she’ll be in paradise. You can start anew and let her see the beauty of the world. Give her a reason to greet each day. Take your time and let her rise from the ashes. She’ll be beautiful when it happens. And you’ll get to witness her rebirth.
Sliding the capped needle into his pocket, he silently prowled from the room. Any woman from the pride would have given anything to share a night in his bed. He could only imagine how receptive they would be if he accepted any of them as a mate. They threw themselves at him, fawning over him. Sometimes he welcomed their advances, finding them amusing. After all he was a male with an enormous sex drive.
But that wasn’t going to happen ever again.
He’d found the one meant for him. She’d have to adapt.
Especially when she figured out he wasn’t human.
He knew she had an idea about his nature. Most mortals were nervous around shifters, their natural instincts warning them something was off. Persephone was no different. She watched him warily, as though she knew he could pounce at any moment. Despite his attempts to put her at ease, she remained cautious and unrelenting. Once she discovered he could change into an animal he was certain she’d really give him a run for his money.
She’ll probably bolt from you screaming and try to swim the length of the ocean to get away.
Leaving his office, he crossed the foyer and started climbing the stairs. He was grateful he moved without sound. Persephone freaked out whenever she knew he was coming. Even if he’d not taken her body, he could easily sense her emotions. She’d been rattled for so long fear and hatred practically oozed from her. In a way her animosity was a relief. He’d rather see her angry with him than heartbroken by what she missed with all her heart.
He reached the top of the stairs and walked to the door at the end of the hall. The guards he’d placed there acknowledged him and moved aside. He stood at the entrance to her door, knowing she was on the other side. The hair on his nape rose, the panther slithering under his skin. Being around one’s mate did all kinds of things to a male.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.
She sat on the windowsill, gazing outside. Her eyes saw nothing, her brows smooth as she looked into the night. His heart broke at the sight, the wrenching agony like a fist to the chest. Slowly she turned her head, her thick hair falling over her shoulder. The emptiness in her features changed as he expected it to, shifting from vacant to livid.
“You!” she spat, rising to her feet.
She looked around, trying to find something to throw at him. Since she’d done this plenty of times in the past he’d had most of the things she could toss with ease taken from the room.